


Flavors (of the Other Worlds)

by cthoniccthulu



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Lot of Religions & Lores, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Attempt at Humor, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-11-26 08:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18178037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cthoniccthulu/pseuds/cthoniccthulu
Summary: She tastes like white wine and raindrops.She tastes like engine grease and grape soda.Some magic gets into the mix and suddenly everything tastes funny.OR: The story where a socially awkward synesthesiac and a possible agoraphobe explore the "ass-end" of magic





	1. The One Where the Plot is Explained

Yang tastes like peach ice cream and slightly crisped toast; warm and inviting.

Blake, the night's sky to her radiant sunshine, tastes like dark chocolate and slightly-off blackberries.

Penny tasted like the morning grass dew and the half-red half-blue Slurpees sold at the 7-Up near her house before she moved away.

And the doctor who diagnosed... explained to Ruby Rose at the age of fifteen that she had a rare condition of Synesthesia (it took her a while to pronounce it correctly) tasted of the dust that hazed around her room in the morning; tired and ready to quit.

That, of course, happened six years ago. Ruby had grown up, gotten over her crush on the already gone next-door neighbor Penny, drunk a Bud Light for the first time at one of Yang's rowdy house parties (still gross to think about), and went off to college at nineteen to then promptly drop out in the second semester. Too many tastes, too many flavors swirling around in her mouth, mixing and matching with each other to create a concoction that tasted worse than when she melted all of her Halloween candy one year and ate an amount of sugar sure to kill even God himself from the crash.

So, instead of staying to get her mechanical engineering degree and a license, Ruby worked odd jobs repairing and upholstering people's cars for a year or two until she had enough money to buy a small brick building on the outskirts of her hometown of San Marcos, Texas. That little building was once a family-owned candy shop (avidly named "Lollipops and Gumdrops") that had gone out of business when one of the family members developed a rare cancer and they had to sell it off to some faceless company, one that wrecked it within months, to pay for the treatment. Their little boy that wandered the isles on a regular basis, Jaune, tasting like caramel apples and salty sea air, used to give Ruby free samples of the sugary sweets whenever he could. It was nice.

The empty, wallpaper-lined inside of the former candy shoppe was a ghost of its former self, the dulled scent of Jolly-Ranchers and Jelly-Bellys a stark reminder. Ruby remodeled all of it by what she would like to call "by herself", but actually was helped by her sister and her sister's partner for most of it. The labor was at the very least free (if you didn't count the various meals she paid for when they visited from the Atlantic Northeast of North Carolina). They tore down the molting walls, repaved the floor with concrete, "installed" a few couches in the front, and almost entirely removed the front of the building. 

Essentially, Ruby and friends created her dream mechanic's shop.

Some would have said that she should have waited out the grueling schoolwork, dealt with the confusing amount of smells and tastes that clouded her life, but those people wouldn't have known what Ruby wanted to do. Sure, Texas Tech was a cool, fantastic university (great teachers by the way), and Austin was a rare phenomenon among the conservative state (refer to "Keep Austin Weird"), but all Ruby ever wanted to do was to work with cars. She understood them and they understood her.

Her love of the automobilian race started when she was seven and her father decided to make the most familiar thing to himself the bottom of a bottle after her mother died. After one particularly rough night, the one where she realized her dad's taste of vanilla and burnt marshmallows had been poisoned with the taste of vodka which is somewhere in between antiseptic and actual poison, Ruby locked herself in the garage. The smooth ground of the garage was unnaturally cold on her barren feet, unaccustomed to such temperatures in the state known for rampant heat-stroke, and bright against the fluorescent lighting on the roof. 

She found comfort in her dad's old muscle car, a vivid blue streaking across the grey walls (she would later find out it was an old Pontiac Firebird, but that's not of note currently). He used to take her sister and her nearly everywhere imaginable to pair of young Texan girls, such as a small grove of trees that hadn't decided to die of dehydration or the Alamo down in San Antonio. But that was before someone decided to come crashing into her mother on a rainy night and subsequently sent her dad into the endless pit that was depression. That pit sometimes liked to creep out and wrap its tendrils around Ruby and Yang.

And that little "sometimes" looked to be growing with each day. Yang liked to punch her walls and bloody her fists with rage. Tai, their dad, liked to do what was said previously. Ruby cried. She cried in her room, in the yard, even during the rare times where Tai pulled himself together enough to order something along the lines of Chinese takeout or the like. Her school's counselor, the one who both tasted and smelled of tobacco, told her to breathe deep and exhale hard. What did she know about loss?

Instead, Ruby would go into the garage (generally during the night) and smell the gasoline and oil in the muscle car. She'd open up the old blue hood that slowly went from dusty to polished to perfection every time she visited and took apart and/or put the engine back together. She'd go under the car, crawling on her hands and knees, wrench and ratchets in hand, just to see how the fuel system worked. One time, she tried to refill the deflating tires with the electric air compressor hidden behind the toolbox and had almost blown her leg off. She did not do that again.

That cycle went on and on, each morning being roughly shaken by her blonde sister to wake up and wash her grimy hands. She  _would_ do it, but begrudgingly at best. Yang's word was almost law for her. With their father gone and any semblance of a mother figure gone, she took up the mantle of her guardian. Apparently, when you don't have anyone to feed you, you become an okay cook, which, despite any sane person's thoughts of Yang, became her passion. Everyone needs one.

So, when their father finally decided to get off his ass and become a responsible adult, he was sorely confused why Ruby wouldn't eat anything he cooked. If Yang's cooking was Michelin Star worthy to Ruby, than Tai's could be around the levels of Whataburger. Bad times for the man who wanted to be a better person to his daughters. Years later, when Yang was off at A-B Tech's Culinary courses in Appalachia and hanging around with a black-haired beauty (her words), Ruby would finally eat something of his. It tasted just like she thought it would, which is to say infinitely worse.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story up to now. 

 

*

 

A resounding  _boom_ fills Ruby "Kiddo" (she should really thank Uncle Qrow for that birthday whiskey) Rose's apartment. From outside the thin walls of her bedroom, she can hear several pans fall off of their respective racks and a loud "Sorry!" that's all too familiar. She quickly throws herself out of her warm, comfortable, inviting, and non-noisy bed and roughly jerks on an old tank top adorned with one of Blake's weird anime shows (something about space sailors?) that she got for her birthday.

Slowly creaking the door open, her eyes slowly adjust to the rays of sunshine that streak across her floor from the window outside, Ruby sighs. "Noraaaaaa," she drawls, shielding her eyes from the onslaught of Vitamin D, "It's, like, four in the morning. You know I hate waking up this early and I... wait... how do you keep getting into my apartment?"

A bubbly giggle comes from her right. "You leave your door unlocked all the time! I'm pretty much doing you a solid by checking it every day. Also, you have pancake mix and Ren won't wake up to make me any."

Ruby turns the corner of her hallway, stepping out into the foyer of the flat. Nora's practically prancing around her tiny kitchen, parading around a box of Bisquick pancake mix like a messiah. She tastes like sour SweeTarts and that weird flavor, feeling, thing that happens when you eat too much Cap'n Crunch. "Anyways, thanks for the pancakes!" She slams down a few dollars worth of spare change on the counter, clinking on the marble as they roll around. One falls on the floor. "This should probably cover it, right?"

"I'm not a grocery st-"

"Coolthanksbye!"

Nora dashes out of the room, flying out into the warm summer air outside from the open door and almost slamming it behind her before catching it and gently closing it instead. It jolts Ruby's nerves awake nonetheless, causing her to momentarily flinch and then deflate slightly. She places a hand on the wall for stability, rubbing her fingertips across the plaster where she had to fill in a hole caused by a mishap involving a wrench, two hammers, and one Ruby very hyped up on sugar going through a crash in between doing something.

The urge for something sugary surges into her mind and she walks over to her fridge to grab one of the numerous sodas that reside within. She stubs her toe on her one coffee table. Hissing, she briefly curses something about the "stupid, not cool-looking table" and hobbles over to her original goal. The inside of her refrigerator could be mistaken for a broke college student's for the sheer amount of Cup Noodles that litter it, if not for the fact that no college student would be able to buy so many sweets. Caramels, chocolates, butterscotches, whatever you could ever want is stored inside Ruby's fridge of wonders.

Shoveling through her treasure trove, Ruby smirks knowingly. Yang would never have let her have this amount of sugary gold. She'd either make her ration it out (evil!) or would have taken it away and made her work to get it back (treacherous!).

Ah-ha! There it is! Her secret stash of Big Red soda! One, two, thr- oh... two and a half liters of the perfect combination of high-fructose corn syrup, caffeine, and number forty red dye.

One glass of dentist repellant and an inner fight not to drink anymore later, Ruby's ready for the world and the annoyingly bright sky. She grabs an old baseball hat loosely hanging on a hook next to her door, longingly staring at that cowboy hat she bought but will never use. Hopefully, it'll see some use when she will inevitably send it to Yang as a birthday present, but say that she bought it just for her.

A cool breeze weaves around her legs as she steps outside, sending her skin crawling. Ruby looks down and finds that she is still in her pajamas. 

She probably has a spare pair of pants at the shop.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at like four in the morning. Also, I’ve been to neither of the states listed, so if it feels forced that’s why.


	2. The One Where Ruby Reads Some Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've written sooner, but school/dental work was being annoying. Also, props to Vikira for being a sweetheart.

"You want me to do what to your car?"

"Do I have to explain this to you again?" The man before her (his name is something like John, but she wasn't listening) hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, furrows his brow. "I want you to put flames on my car," he says with an exasperated breath.

Ruby looks to the left, peering at the car currently jacked up in her garage. It's blocky, displeasing to look at, and seems like the Incredible Hulk's stress ball with how much damage has been done to it. "It's a minivan."

"It'll look cool!"

He begins to rattle on about how "everyone will be impressed" and "my wife will be amazed", going on to add that he wants a spoiler too. Ruby takes advantage of his ramblings.

The mechanic stares at him, into him, with her gunmetal eyes, combing over his entirety. He has the barest inkling of a flavor or for that matter, a personality, immediately tasting of mildew, of the wet left out to fester. It's like that time she left that letter dad sent her (Why did he do that? They live about five miles apart.) out on her counter and three weeks later it emanated a stench of what might have been a paper graveyard.

Another taste worms its way into her mouth and it starts with a general sweetness. It evolves to something fruity, to vaguely of pineberries (are those what those white strawberries in Virginia are called?), then to grapes. Sour grapes. It's the kind of grapes that go into gas station grocery store juice, the kind of juice that you drink and say, "Hey, this isn't that bad." and then immediately regret every single sip after the fact.

"Hello?" Josh(?) raps on the counter holding register of sorts she's standing at. "Earth to woman!"

He tastes of boxed wine, dull and boring, but trying its hardest to be what it's not, all to impress the person who most likely doesn't care. Ruby has only bought some once and only once, already wasted on a mixture of Mike's Lemonades and Long Island Teas that Yang said: "Weren't _that_ alcoholic." Actually, she was probably being sarcastic. Still her fault.

Ruby very suddenly realizes that someone was talking to her. "Don't you have a soccer game or something to go to?" She slaps a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

"Did you just-" His voice is laced with a trail of feasible anger. "You know what? I'm not getting anything from your stupid auto shop!"  He begins to walk over to his car.

"Uh, you know you can't bring that down without me helping, right?"

The man gets under the car.

The situation suddenly dawns on her. "H-hey! Stop!"

The car drops on him.

 

*

 

Why can't she just get some customers who aren't assholes? Some customers who know that asking a mostly grown woman to put a stupid flame on their stupid soccer-dad van is stupid? How hard would it be?

Ruby puts down her phone, sighing. Calling a family to explain that no, you cannot put a claim on Rosework Mechanics for something that dude did, is tiring work and a useless one at that right now. They have to insist that it was her fault, that she caused their idiot patriarch to go and crush his femur because she wasn't responding.

A soft breeze rolls in and Ruby relaxes into her chair, spine slightly pushing through the strap-bound back. It's an old lawn chair, probably either bought or stolen from someone else's lawn. Nora's like that when she decorates. She's probably never paid full price for anything and Ruby's not sure if she's thankful that she lends her talents to her when she's buying a vintage car part or scared that the methods she uses could potentially be illegal.

"Honestly, why would you even bother messing with this guy?" Nora says, twirling the straw in her lemonade around halfheartedly. "I mean, it's not like he can really do anything to you, right?" 

Ren, tall and topped with a head of black hair, answers for her. "It's because she owns a business, Nora. If this apparent self-assailant actually manages to sue her, etc, she could potentially lose her shop to fines." He flips a flapjack into the air, perfectly catching it to soak up more butter. "Anyways, you have to eat something else than breakfast food for dinner. I'm going to give you the choice between some sushi I bought yesterday or the lasagna in the oven."

The bubbly girl gasps too loud, clasping her face in her hands. "Ren! You wouldn't!"

"Ren would definitely." He continues to cook.

Ruby laughs and looks at Nora. She's feigning anger currently, knees pulled up to her chest with arms tight around them. Ren gives her a small smirk. The thing about Ren is that he has one taste, one defining characteristic. It's of coffee, rich and deep, but it has depth and intricacy. There's the hint of almonds and the like, creme, and what tastes like what Qrow calls "Amaretto", alcoholic, of course. It's a good palette cleanser from the bouncy, off the walls taste that Nora gives off.

A dinner of casual practiced banter later during a dinner she was not-so peer pressured into having (Nora reluctantly took up the offer of day-old sushi), and Ruby is saying her goodbyes. She's sent off with a Tupperware of uneaten lasagna and a whisper from Ren telling her not to say anything to Nora because she will use it as an excuse to raid her kitchen again. They're an interesting pair.

They moved in about a year ago, citing a "mishap" in their previous residence as the reason. For some reason, they neglected to actually explain what that "mishap" was, but judging from how Ren shushed Nora every time she tried to say something, it's probably bad. Ruby checked in on them from time to time to help and became interested in the whole friend thing after Nora decided to go and get her an antique engine piston for a fourth of its price and ask for nothing in return.

Ruby smiles as she opens her door, drawing in a breath of her less than neat loft. There's five dishes stacked in her sink that she will eventually get to, an old overturned dog bed that's only there because of the one time she hosted their family dog Zwei when Tai went on vacation somewhere, and countless other things. The great thing is that the smell and furthermore, the taste, will never change. It is ingrained in the wood-paneled floors and stuck to the popcorn ceiling like water in the engine cylinders.

Setting the food-filled container on the small kitchen island, Ruby grabs the stack of letters that have begun slowly piling up on the coffee table.

As she flips through the envelopes, she finds herself mumbling their names unconsciously. "Bill, bill, bill, taxes, letter from Yang that Blake totally forced her to send, more taxes, fancy embroidered letter, bi-" Ruby double takes and thumbs back to the lavishly designed message, looking for the sender.

_Schnee Duress Corporation (SDC)_

_1 Schnee Ranch Road_

_Lake Tanglewood, Texas, 79918_

There's something strange about the envelope, something off. It's unnaturally heavy yet also way too light, stuck in the midway point of uncanny. It sends shudders up her arm and she very much doesn't like it. She places it to the side to look at what Yang sent, ripping it open with a silverware knife lying nearby.

_What's up, lil' sis?_

_Blake just told me that there's no point to writing "lil'" instead of just little, but who cares. Sorry, I care, I really do. Yes, it's true, please stop looking over my shoulder. Don't say anything to her, but now that she's walked away I can say that I don't care without her having one of her cute hissy fits. That goes to show you that you should never give up on your ideals Ruby. I am the walking talking incarnation of a role model._

_Sorry for rambling, but I really just wanted to ask how you were doing. Is Dad fine? Are you cutting down on that sugar water you call soda? Did you get that Mercury whatever thing commission done? You complained to me for like an hour after talking about it, so I'm gonna assume that you're fine with that part._

_Blake showed me this really cool place to hike at the other day and we had a picnic up there after this annoyingly long hike. Honestly, I have no idea how she can deal with walking on stones that are about two seconds from falling all of the time, but it was fun to do. Have I ever told you how adorable she looks when the sun shines on her cheeks? She tries to hide it, but she always gives in after I pester her for a second. What about when her eyes radiate in the night? Or when she gets embarrassed? Or..._

It goes on like that for two paragraphs.

_Also, I took this photo while we were up there and I thought I'd send it to you. It's pretty artsy if I do say so myself. Kitty-cat just gave me this of utter disgust and I would like to blackmail her with that later._

_Love, Yang._

Ruby chuckles at the letter and sets it back down, reaching into the envelope for the picture and pulls out a small Polaroid because, obviously, that's what's described as artsy. It is possibly the worst picture she has ever seen. To start, it's not quite sideways, set slightly left of direct center which is mildly to completely infuriating. On top of that, there are two holes poked through the film, obscuring the majority of the view, and it's not fully developed. It's depicting something along the lines of a forest, but it looks more like someone let a kindergartner go to town with a dark green marker.

It is very Yang.

As positively amazing as the photo is, her eyes still drift over to the exquisitely crafted envelope. Taking a deep breath and stretching her arms because why not, Ruby gingerly, cautiously, picks up the envelope. She's careful to open it, slowly moving her thumb around the flap so as to not create any tears.

The paper she pulls out is cold, frigid as if it's been out in a snowstorm for a few days. Snowstorms don't happen in Texas if you could even imagine snow in the arid desert of America. The words on it are a blueish-grey, contrasting against the pure white, demanding to be read rather than asking.

_To Whom it May Concern,_

_You have been chosen as the current repair(wo)man for the Schnee Duress Corporation's company vehicles. Due to your many positive creations/repair works and several scouts, we have decided that you are apt for the work. If you fret that you will not be paid well or for that matter at all, do not worry. We have a fund dedicated to workers such as yourself that is always kept at near max capacity. Do not think to decline this offer._

_Sincerely, Jacques Schnee, CEO, and founder of the SDC_

Her skin sticks to the paper as she reads, adhered by freezing like every child in a Christmas movie ever. Ruby prys them off. Slowly.

A thousand thoughts whirl through her mind like wildfire, each one more and more absurd. Who is the SDC? Why has she never heard of them? Are they gazillionaires? Is she going to become a millionaire? Did she remember to top off her soda supply?

She shakes her head quickly and musses up her hair, putting the thoughts out of her mind with a deep breath. She can think about these things tomorrow when she's not worn out from Nora's one person conversation about leotards and if they could look good. Nora found that they were, in fact, never going to look good. Good to know if Ruby ever went to a tightrope competition.

A curtain brushing against Ruby's face brings her out of her thoughts, white lace embroidered with flowers. It's been softly swaying side to side for the past few minutes, an open window the cause of the kinetic energy. Bright white stars, ones that pop out against the cloudy night sky, shine just outside her building, so close she could touch them but also so far. Pretty.

Ruby shuts the open window and heads to her room, thoughts still dead-set on the letter despite her conscious thinking. There are better things than the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect one to two of these a week. I haven't stretched my writing muscles in a good few years, so, please, just berate me for what I do wrong (nicely). K, thanks, bye.
> 
> Here's the playlist I'll be writing this to: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4fvm7FuxjZrAwT_ZukzBXarJMy29FdU4


	3. The One Where a New Neighbor Scares Ruby into Going to the SDC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY. I meant to get this out sooner, but Randy Pitchford had to up and drop the Borderlands 3 trailer and fuck me up real good. Plus, I haven't looked over this at all, so I might come back to fix it later.

Gleaming sunlight bounces off glossy blue metal. The metal belongs to the chassis of a pickup truck. The pickup truck is Ruby's. Each morning she polishes it to a tee, any speck of dust obliterated underneath a towel who had a particular distaste for their race. Stupid dustheads.

Some would ask why Ruby would buy a blue truck of all things and a Dodge one at that. She would respond with why Chrysler produced trucks were the far superior option to any other kind of truck and that you were dumb for asking, though those weren't the words that came out of her mouth. Cursing for no reason doesn't help anyone and it certainly wasn't fun to do. What was the point?

Ruby would also respond that she drove a blue 1989 Dodge Ram because dropping out of college early to start a business is a costly event and that buying what can only be described as a pile of junk you see on the side of the road and nursing it back to health is a novel thing that few people could truly enjoy. She would then begin to ramble on about how new cars were never as well made as what she referred to as "The Oldies", berating the new electric cars for their faults despite her inner voice knowing that it would probably be a great deal better for the planet. This would be the point that most people would walk away. Ruby welcomed the clearance of conflicting palates.

Some people, however, would stay and listen to Ruby's plight of being plagued by the constant idea that someone (a lot of people) out in the world thought that Ford trucks were better. One of those people was Blake Belladonna, a lightly tanned woman who said that she was from a place called Menagerie that Ruby couldn't find any trace of existing. Apparently, it was some kind of tropical island in the middle of nowhere. Maybe a life away from crowded areas was good for the quiet types.

The raven-haired woman was skittish, disliked bright lights, and favored books more than people the majority of the time. She tended to keep away from parties and the ever-present threat (or blessing; to each his own) of drugs. Feigning interest was a skill of hers that seemed to be on the level of a master- which it most likely was- and it was a skill that Ruby had yet to figure out if she used for herself. It was nice to have someone to look like they wanted to know more about it at least.

Blake Belladonna has only ever met Ruby Rose four times and each time it was with Yang. Somehow, be it some kind of love spell or actual connection, the two opposites had truly attracted. Yang kept Blake from going into one of her depressive states that Ruby only knows about because of late-night phone calls from a certain hammered blonde and in turn, Blake kept Yang from fireballing into a supernova of anger. There's a word for what that kind of relationship is called that is always on the tip of Ruby's tongue, but she never finds it.

Ruby only ever calls Blake when she needs advice about learning about anyone else, though sometimes it's entirely exhausting. Both Yang and Blake compliment each other over every little thing constantly, so much so that Ruby is at the moment briefly considering the thought of disassociating herself with her sister. Very briefly. While a chat with the catlike woman is informational, it's also almost too sweet to bear, though an overabundance of sugar has never been a problem for Ruby.

Said woman ends the call with a small "Thank you.", returning back to her duties of car cleaning. This time, after Ruby asked who the SDC were, Blake's voice turned dead cold, monotone with an underlying venom. She said that they were bastards all of them, men and women who could care less for the lesser people of the world despite the "Duress" in their name. Men and women that would find money wherever they could, maybe even from a homeless shelter, and funnel it into their heavy pockets. A happy subject.

Ruby abruptly frowns, silver eyes on the windshield of her truck. There is a scratch. She mentally notes to go and buy a new set of glass despite the setbacks to her budget it will set.

There's a tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, do you live here?"

She turns to find what is one of the most muscular (and tall, Jesus Christ!) women she has ever seen staring down at her with bright, caring green eyes. It's not the muscles of a bodybuilder, not overly large and obnoxious, but they're strapped to her lithe frame like armor, shown off by a dull gold sports bra and similar shorts. A cascade of red hair droops down her back in a ponytail.

"Yes?"

"Really?" The woman tastes of gyros and tzataki, things Ruby's only tried once and things that are distinctly Greek. "I tried asking this other girl earlier who I think had syrup all over her, but I couldn't exactly parse anything from her words."

Ruby laughs unexpectedly, a little too loud and a little too forced. "Yeah, that's Nora." The young mechanic's vermillion tipped hair moves to the other side of her forehead, pushed by a soft wind. It looks awkward and Ruby feels like she is making it more awkward by existing. "She's hard to get used to."

The other girl smiles, green eyes sparkling with warmth. "I know what's that like..." She trails off, looking away, shaking her head, thinking better of it, and holding out a hand. "Pyrrha Nikos. And you?"

"Ruby Rose," she says, tipping the cap on her head in that way she's always wanted to because it's in every movie, "Mechanic at the ready." 

"Oh." The word isn't disappointed but more just surprised. "Is that your car?" Pyrrha points to the very large and very obvious pickup truck.

Ruby suppress the urge to correct car to truck and responds. "Yep! Do you want to hear more ab-"

"No thank you," Pyrrha says the words as if she's practiced them, cool and confident. It doesn't feel right. "Though if you could direct me to apartment 307 that would be nice."

A wave of unnatural heat washes over her. "A-are you moving in?" Everything feels off and confusing and Ruby doesn't like it. "I can help you move your stuff in if you want. Do you need my help?" she quickly adds.

"Already done."

Ruby realizes that she's standing just a bit too tight and tries to relax, arms falling loose in the process. "It's on the third floor on your immediate left."

The yogurt flavored woman turns on her heel, ending the conversation. "Thank you for your help," she says as she walks off. "Next to your apartment, right?"

Cold tingle up her spine. "Yes."

As soon as she enters the complex and is out of sight, Ruby gets in her Dodge Ram, revs the engine, shifts into reverse, and speeds off. There's something not right about her and Ruby has no idea what it is. She needs to go clear her mind somewhere.

 

*

 

An hour later, a Big Gulp in hand because drinking pure sugar is not an addiction she swears, Ruby finds herself right outside the town border of Lake Tanglewood. The nickname of Texas being apart of the "American Dustbowl" is really shining through right now, a tumbleweed or two currently doing their namesake. Dilapidated houses pockmark the streets, walls crumbling, windows long since broken. There's an old gas station nearby, a Shell one by the looks of it, though it seems to be on its last legs. Literally, every single light is cracked on it.

And then, standing proud in center view, there's a gigantic shining white mansion at the end of the thin road. Light blue accents are methodically placed on various trellises and similar things, popping out even further by the verdant garden underneath them. It sprawls out for what Ruby assumes is hundreds of feet, fountains and marble statues everywhere. It is terrifyingly fancy.

Ruby takes a sip from her dwindling supply of soda, a potion of various poisons that could kill someone not trained to the ways of a totally-not-a-sugar-addict and knowledgeable of their teachings. The car rises and lowers gently as she rolls forward, rocks and twigs crunching underneath hard rubber. She only thinks of the strange Greek (is she Greek?) woman and her demeanor. Shouldn't she have gotten a letter or something about her moving in? How did she get her stuff in without Ruby hearing? Why dis she already know where her apartment was?

There's a large stone wall crumbling with age that encases the property that only comes into view as she's halfway there, hidden by an incline that she didn't know she was on. At the center, connected to the cracked road, is a wrought iron fence, delicate spirals and curves of metal built into the design. She notes that the system isn't mechanized, not one of the many sliding gates that always manage to worm their way into keycard bound areas. At least she remembers one thing from that half a class of Landscape Architecture she took.

Rolling up to the mansion, Ruby places her drink down in the cupholder that is expertly crafted in the door (she knows very well that other companies are basically required to do that these days but likes to pretend they don't) and looks for some way to notify them that she's here. Is there, like, a guard post inside? No. Keycard? No. Anything? No. She resigns herself to waiting with a sigh.

Several minutes in, a somewhat garbled male voice appears out of nowhere, crackling. "Excuse me miss, but if you continually stay idling at the front of our gates, we will be required to forcibly move you."

Ruby jerks up in her seat, hitting the roof of the already tall truck. A yelp exits her mouth involuntarily and she already knows she's set a bad impression so she begins to rub her sore head without shame. "It's fine. You guys told me to come over to help with the vehicles, remember?" She groans after the words, staring at a somehow unnoticed speaker system next to her window.

"What vehicles, miss..." The voice stops, ambient sound distorted through the microphone. "I'm sorry, I haven't caught your name."

"Ruby. Ruby Rose," she says, hoping to sound collected and not angry at a car who didn't do anything except have a roof. "I run Rosework Mechanics?"

They consider her explanation for a moment before continuing. "Ah! Yes, I remember now! Mr. Whitley specifically asked for you to come."

The grandiose gate swings open with a creak, allowing Ruby to drive through onto a cobblestone path. Gardeners mill about the grounds, tending to various bushes and trees with careful precision with their giant tools that would be intimidating if she didn't already know what they were. Each one is dressed in a heavy suit of khaki and blue polo shirts, wide-brimmed and netted hats obscuring their faces. It is in those moments of observation that Ruby realizes that the area in front of her is a circular drive and she's going to have to parallel park. Dam- darn it. No need to curse.

After weaving her car in between the numerous Rolls Royces and Range Rovers (what's with the double r trend? also, how much money do they have?!) and definitely not accidentally tearing up a  _little_ bit of grass that elicited a stare from every worker, she steps down and out of her car. The thought to bring her soda in with her nags at the back of her mind, yet something (probably common decency for a possible multi-billion dollar company) stops her. A set of engraved wood doors, snowflakes and icicles set into it- which any sane person wouldn't even mention in the state known for heatstroke- open to her left, drawing her attention.

Burly hairs interweave to create a bushy mustache, dull brown in coloration. The owner of described mustache looks like if you took someone's grandfather, aged him down, but kept the whole old man look going on. Dressed in a white undershirt, blue tie, and a double-tailed jacket to boot, the best word to trace what he looks like is round... dwarf-like perhaps. "Welcome Miss Rose," he raises his arms, showcasing the mansion, "To the Schnee household. I will escort you to the master garage."

There's a moment of realization where Ruby stands dead still, arms glued to her sides, before what's actually happening hits her. "Oh, uh... yeah!" She scratches the back of her head, approaching the man. "Coming!"

She speeds up the few steps next to the entrance like a first grader racing their friend; short hops combined with feet that barely leave the ground. There's a confused look on the (assumedly) butler's face, nose scrunched, one that fades after Ruby speaks. "What's your name?"

"Klein. Klein Sieben."

Oh. "How do you spell that last part?"

Klein beckons towards the inside of the house, arms outstretched. The room before them both is dark with shadows cast over the walls, looking to be entirely lit by candlelight and candlelight alone. Several golden chandeliers rest in the air, hovering above a royal blue carpet that lines the floor. "Miss Rose, I don't believe that's entirely relevant at the moment. We should get to the vehicles sooner than later."

The mechanic, dutifully (is that true?) remembering that she is, in fact, a hired hand, solemnly nods. There is work to be done! And, hopefully, new ( incredibly expensive) cars to work with!

The plump-cheeked butler reciprocates the motion and walks into the hall, beckoning her along. "This is the main hall, connected to most if not all rooms on grounds," he says, casually waving a hand. "I find that if you will be coming here to work for the coming days you may want to become more acquainted with it."

"Coming days?"

"Was it not mentioned in the letter?" Klein doesn't bother to face her. "Ah, no matter. I imagine you would relish the chance to come here... was that presumptuous of me?"

Ruby smiles at the man's reconsideration. "No, it's fine." As they've been passing various doors and ornate paintings (seriously? do you guys really need to be that snotty?), there's been one of the strangest flavors in her mouth. Maybe it's just some of the residual taste of the soda or even more of the soda at her house, but his taste keeps on changing, morphing. She would describe it like a jawbreaker, one of course with those multiple layers and flavors, but it seems to go from one to another whenever it wants. Not exactly terrifyingly off, but off nonetheless. "I've never had the chance to get so close to all these cool cars." She looks at a nearby photograph of some rainforest somewhere. "The last car I worked on was an old minivan that some-" A deep breath. "Some nice person asked me to put flames on. I really didn't want to do it."

Klein stops for a moment, quietly humming in thought. "Not the fanciest work, I suppose," he says, finally speaking. He gestures to something nearby, tailcoat dragging on the floor. "Through here you will find the cars and such. You will have to walk through our garden first."

He's pointing at a large wireframe door, thin strands of metal showcasing a cornucopia of green. Bright green leaves, tall strands of grass, and towering trees that Ruby don't know because the only thing that grows in the Lone Star State are oaks fill the view past the door like a window to another world. A world that's quite a bit more fertile than only having sand, dust, and the occasional coyote that steals your dog. A thought comes into Ruby's head. "Is there a reason I had to know what I was going to go through?"

"Oh no, I don't think so Miss Rose. It is _just_ an old garden." He strokes one of the innumerable hairs on his face. "Though, now that I think about it, there is one thing you might want to be worried about after all."

"W-what is it?"

There's a rustle outside in the yard outside, a crunch of discarded sticks. Klein chuckles. "It's just young Ms. Weiss on her morning rounds. She's not a threat whatsoever..." He pauses, a raised finger and a mouth open in thought. "Well, maybe when she's awake this early she may be a small bit annoyed."

"Anyhow," he continues, opening the door with a creak, "Off you go! Stay on the middle path and don't go through the catenary!" 

"Wh-"

Very suddenly, a not-so-light push sends Ruby out into the greenery, feet struggling to stay afoot (get it?). Her face is unceremoniously thwacked with several low-hanging branches and leaves (was that a palm leaf?), causing her to sputter. She eventually stumbles and lands flat on her back.

And there she falls, eyes towards the sky. A great arched glass ceiling, laden with metal to keep it from, you know, falling down, sits at the top of the garden, keeping the various plants encased within the mansion. Ruby mumbles something to herself about the "angrily bright sky", and gets up.

Three paths diverge from where she's standing, paved in dirt and gravel; left, right, and straight ahead. Hundreds of varieties of trees line each one, some arching over to create halls of wood, some giving way to glorious sunlight. A rainbow of flowers dances across the ground, lilies and roses like spilled paint across a canvas.

"What are _you_ doing here?!"

Ruby turns to find a very red-faced, very pale woman on a tree-bound rope swing staring daggers at her. She awkwardly waves at them, arm tight to her chest. "Hi?"

"Whitley put you up to this, didn't he?" The woman gingerly jumps down from the wooden seat with a harrumph, a cloud of dust billowing out. She's dressed in almost pure white, a short dress and a sun hat on her with a small bolero jacket differentiated by the smallest hint of blue. "Did you know he once tried to send a reporter in here for me?"

"I-"

"Frankly," she continues, cutting Ruby off, "I really don't care if he did send you here or not." She points at another screen door next to her, most likely the garage. "Just get out."

"...Okay." Ruby slowly maneuvers her way to the door, careful to be at least six feet away like that one program they showed her in first grade told her to do around wild animals. "You're Weiss, right?"

"Leave." The now accurately named Weiss says, eyes threatening to put a bullet in Ruby's head. There's a flame in her eyes, growing in size like embers left to the open air.

The mechanic does as she's told and quickly enters the adjacent room, the feeling of being watched still trained onto her. She can hear a sigh of relief from the other side of the door, soft and melodic. Some would describe it as cute. Ruby immediately rules out the idea of mentioning that to the volatile girl on the other side of the wall.

Contemplation apparently does not bring situational awareness, because Ruby can see absolutely nothing. For about four seconds. Bright fluorescent lights spark alive in the pitch black, a sickly glow revealing (by Ruby's count) nearly thirty cars. Each one is don with the neutrals of the color wheel, white to black with a luster of polish. To top that, they're like nothing Ruby's ever seen.

Sure, some hidden car company in Sweden or somewhere almost inaccessible as said country's furniture store are going to elude her, but these... these  _things_ are unique. Some sport wheels made of what looks like glass, almost like fish bowl with the way they're filled with liquid. Some have lights that look to shine every color at the same time, rainbows flashing against the drab concrete walls. Some even look to disappear for a few moments before stretching,phasing into existence.

Ruby feels like she's about to faint.

She  _really_  feels like she's about to faint.

She doesn't faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist for fiction: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4fvm7FuxjZrAwT_ZukzBXarJMy29FdU4
> 
> By the way, I just saw How to Train Your Dragon 3 and my heart just committed seppuku. Stupid DeBlois and stupid Powell making good childhood trilogies that are endearing and amazing.


	4. The One Where Strange Cars and Strange Houses Are Given Context... Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah man, looks like you changed the projected chapter amount. You better actually follow through with this and not leave this hanging. You better not do that. Don't do that.
> 
> (That chapter amount is really just a rough guess. Please don't hold me to that exact amount. It could be more or less, I don't know.)

A voice sputters into reality from a nearby intercom. "Enjoying the show?" It's definitely not Klein, younger and more full of snark, though still male. It's an accent only gained through years of private school and endless lectures. "It's interesting to see how normal people react to these kinds of things. One time, somebody almost tried to destroy all of them. They didn't get far before security took them out."

One of the cars briefly flashes a color Ruby has never seen and will most likely never see again. "O-out?"

"Of the building." He laughs. "We're not idiots. Murder, whilst quick, doesn't ever fix much."

Ruby considers it for a moment. "Then why am  _I_ here?"

"To fix the cars, obviously."

And that is when Ruby has had enough. The taste of his voice is disgustingly artificial, a lot like if you took a donut and then continually poured Splenda on it to make it taste better. It is not specific, it is not rich or smooth, it is a pure sweet that has no place having no real flavor. "You're joking." She picks up a nearby wrench lying atop a toolbox. "You have to be joking. What is this thing supposed to do to that," She points at a car that looks to be created of half of a tree. " _Thing_."

“It won’t.”

A scream tries to rise in her throat but she clenches her neck, forces it down. “Who even are you?!”

“Whitley Schnee, heir to the Schnee Duress Corporation and humble compatriot of man.” The wrench in Ruby's hand begins to glow feverishly bright, molten bright, and she drops it. “And you’re Ruby Rose, a mechanic unbeknownst to this intricate world or worlds. What else is there to know?”

Ruby begins to suspect that he knows what he's doing and is purposely trying to give her a headache with his flavor. She rubs her temples. "Please stop acting so great with words like Blake does. It's really not helping."

"One, I have no idea who that is." A surge of lightning pounces to one of the light tubes on the ceiling, causing it to explode in a rain of glass. "Two, I don't care." 

Migraine. Of fu- take a deep breath, Ruby. In and out. Good. Of course, it had to become a migraine. "Can I please go?"

"Let me think about that. How about... no. You see he-"

Walking out of a room while someone's speaking generally means they won't be able to finish. Stepping out of a sugary haze filled room into refreshing cool air generally makes things feel a lot better. Returning when you don't want to generally doesn't make anything to great. And finding yourself face to face with the incredibly annoyed pale woman from earlier is generally the worst.

"Hello... again." Ruby realizes how bad the current situation is (how did she not earlier?). "So, do you do, uh, magic..." she twiddles her thumbs behind her back, sweating only slightly profusely, "Stuff here?"

Cold, dead eyes stare back at her. "No."

"Then what do you do?" Weiss(?) turns to a sink next to the toolbox as Ruby speaks, turning it on full force. "Your name is Weiss, right?" Ruby adds haphazardly.

The white-haired woman brings a gloved hand to the running water, letting the silken glove soak. "Science." A deep blue color engulfs her arm, thick swirls of color oozing off like Yang's flowing hair. "And yes, my name is Weiss, you dolt."

Ruby tries  _very_ hard not to freak out. "That wasn't ni-"

A gush of water starts to flow into the air from Weiss's arm. "We are one of many minor realms dwarfed by the major seven realms of old, each one something you've most likely heard of in passing," she says, voice bored and ready to quit. "Here at the Schnee Duress Corporation, we have found a way to channel the energies of these realms into ours, creating what you call," the stream of water forms into a figure eight, "Magic."

Ruby freaks out. "WHAT." One of the cars bursts out into an incredibly joyous rendition of Fur Elise. "ARE YOU SERIOUS.

"Yes."

"THERE IS MAGIC."

"Yes."

"IN THIS WORLD."

"Yes.

"THAT I AM LIVING IN."

"Yes.

"RIGHT NOW."

Weiss draws her arm back to her side, sighing. "Yes, yes, there is magic..." The water neatly guides itself back up the faucet. "Actually, I don't think I need an idiot like yourself's name. It shouldn't be this hard to understand."

She doesn't hear her. "ONE OF THOSE CARS HAS A FACE." The car in question winks at her in recognition. "A FACE."

Weiss rakes her hands through her hair, evidently annoyed. "What don't you understand about this, you simpleton? It. Is. Science." She points at the now smug-faced car. "That one is made with the usage of Xoth's. It is just a car!"

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL XOTH WHATEVER THE FUCK IS."

Weiss screams. "I DON'T KNOW WHY THE FUCK YOU'RE HERE."

"I DON'T KNOW EITHER." Ruby flings the screen door open and steps out. "I NEED TO GO AND LOOK OVER MY LIFE CHOICES."

"FINE." Ruby slams (tries to slam) the door behind her before gingerly catching it and slowly closing it so as to not make a ruckus. "Stupid magic face car that smiled at me stupidly," she mumbles to herself with a harumph. The garden air is still fresh and inviting, though the thought of it being related to anything in the other room puts her off from reveling in it.

She'd have half a mind to just go ahead and leave, but something keeps her there from leaving, maybe intrigue or a... hex. Yeah, a hex. Witches who do magic do that kind of stuff. Cool. Anyways, she can't bring herself to leave. At least there are two other paths other than the mirror screen doors. To the left, the arch of trees from earlier and to the right is a giant metal door surrounded by shrubbery. She goes for the right.

The non-terrifying magic car mechanic walks over to the metal door, one glass window barred by thin metal the only distinguishing feature in its frame. She pulls on a small handle hidden on the left side only for it to not budge even the smallest bit. She tugs harder. It doesn't budge harder. The door makes a noise similar to nails on a chalkboard, shaking softly.

Ruby stares at the door. "Are you-... are you laughing at me?"

The noise gets louder.

Ruby kicks the door. And is launched backward.

The door continues to laugh.

Ruby groans, drags herself off the ground and pats her clothes down. Looks like she'll be going the other way today. The only thing that could make this worse is if the door had a face t-

The door grins at her.

Ruby in turn immediately runs the other direction. Rocks and weeds cloud the dirt path her boots are running on and thick wood (how's she supposed to know if they are or aren't anymore?) branches try their best to smack her. Clear golden sunlight rips through the tree tunnel sporadically, revealing mass amounts of the lilies and roses from the main area.

As she runs, a small (small as in it's about the size of her) archway comes into view at the potential end of the tunnel. The dusty plains and brown grass of the 28th state lie just outside of it; freedom at last. Ruby nearly lops her head off on one of the branches from how fast she runs towards it. She goes through it.

And ends up floating through a pure dark, cold and unforgiving. It twirls around in a vortex at her, too close for comfort and too far away to feasibly run from before she'll touch it again. Not that she can run, seeing as she's suspended by some unknown force in the air. Flapping her arms does nothing, so... no air. How is she breathing? Actually, it's magic, so who cares? (Probably Weiss.)

With a brilliant flash of another mystery color, the void dissipates into green hills and amber fields of grain. A thick forest lies to her right. To her left a shallow bay with various creatures that could be classified as crabs if you tried hard enough. Ruby gets down on her haunches, loses her balance and falls on her ass, stares off into the distance, and attempts not to cry.

"Seems like you're in a tight spot, young lady. Need some help going home?"

Ruby (jerking up just a bit) turns to find an incredulously small man- two feet, tops- dressed in a tiny brown business suit, a leathery brown hand extended out to her. He tastes like toffee and bitter, bitter coffee grounds.

"Scared of me, are you?" The tiny man, long face with a longer nose, grins, showing off pearly teeth. "Most people are when they first get here."

She shakes his hand, feeling almost guilty for how much her hand dwarfs his. "Name's J. I'm a businessman and dealer of goods extraordinaire. How'd you get here?"

Ruby sits for a moment considering her answer. "A weird archway in a mansion."

And then something strange happens in her mouth, something altogether new. A sharp inflection of sour lemon washes over her tongue, overpowering the bitter with sour. "The mansion didn't happen to be owned by a few pale humans, did it?" "J" says.

"It- It did." Ruby's mouth feels tight and closed and horrible.

A smirk spreads out across the little man's face, reaching up to one of his pointed ears. "Well then, I believe you will want to be going home now." He flicks one of his fingers at the ground, invisibly pulling up a chunk of soil. "You said an arch, correct?"

Ruby doesn't want to be amazed by magic right now but it still happens. "Yeah." A thought pops into her mind. "Could... could you teach me how to do magic? The people back home are kinda really weird."

J gives her a look, pitiful a good description. "No, I cannot, young lass. You wouldn't be able to do it if you sold your soul." There's a steely glint to his eyes, dark pools centered in a wealth of amber green irises. "I'll need your name now."

"Why can't I do magic?" She looks at her hands, inspecting the deep creases in each bore from callouses gained from continual work with metal. "Is it because I'm human?"

"No, girl, it is not." Clumps of dirt whirlwinds around the both of them, fluctuating from packed together to feet apart. "You have something else in you that I cannot see, something else. I don't know what will happen with you." The uprooted ground forms a dome around them. "I still need that name."

"Ruby Rose." Something's not right. "What's wrong wi-"

"Idiot." J grows about two inches taller, staring up at her and then staring down after a few seconds. Somehow, she's on the ground and locked to it, arms unwilling to move. "You really don't know where you are, do you? You're in the Fae Coast and I just acquired your name. _You're_   _mine_."

"B...b-but we were getting along!" Ruby struggles to move her jaw to speak, the words coming out strangled and hoarse. "You were helping me go home!"

"When did I say that, Ruby?"

A pang of pain shoots up her left arm. She opens her mouth to speak, but she can't find an answer, anything to say. J (probably not even his real name) laughs maniacally, deep shadows casting over his face despite there being no sun to do so. "Never!" One of his vest buttons comes loose from how hard he's laughing. "The answer was never!"

"But-"

"No buts!" Ruby is abruptly launched into the air and flipped upside down, hair dangling towards/touching the ground. "You gave me your name and I can do whatever I like with it!" A small dull brown briefcase pops into the air next to J with a burst of glitter. "Now, I need you to sign some contracts for me and you can't lie on these no matter what. I didn't lie to you so I hope you return the favor."

The floating girl tries to say something against it but her mouth won't open. For that matter, she can't exactly do anything.

"What's taking you so long?" J gives her a once over. "Oh, ha! Silly me! I forgot to let you move! Here you go!" A previously non-existent bowler hat on his head is tipped. Ruby's previously non-existent personal gravity is activated. She falls to the ground in a heap.

"Now, would you kindly sign these papers?" He opens up the suitcase to reveal an otherworldly amount of handkerchiefs and... one bottle of Windex? "Just give me one second."

Another dome of dirt is formed inside the dome (was that needed?) around her captor and exactly three things happen in the span of exactly three seconds.

  1. Something explodes inside the dome.
  2. A garish yellow-green light shines through the cracks.
  3. J steps out with a calligraphy pen and a stack of browned parchment.



"Sign here," he points his hand at the bottom, "here," the top, "here," the next page, "and all of the red marks on the document," and then flips through all of the papers. He places the pen in her hand, closing her fingers around it.

Ruby gives out a hack and a cough, chest heaving with effort. "What-" Dry-heave. "What happens when I sign them?" The pen drips ink on the ground, green turning jet black in long tendrils of dark. "Is it bad?"

"Depends on what your definition of bad is. I wouldn't have the faintest idea otherwise."

This time words come to her easily. "I won't be able to go back to my cars." Ink dribbles up the pen and downpours onto the ground.

"Quite bad." Her hand moves itself to the papers, her signature appearing against her will. J is leering straight at her, studying her, peering into her. "Quite, quite bad." Fear flickers across his face. A complex series of webs and flowers marks itself up her arm in ink. Ruby doesn't notice.

"Please just let me leave." She tries to put on her best puppy-dog eyes face, but there's too much sod and grime on her face. "Please."

J backs up to one of the sides of the dome, arms up and simultaneously scrunched up under the roof.  "Sure, sure, yes, I'll let you go. Just," the dirt around them slides back into the ground with a few rough jerks, "Just please don't hurt me."

Tattoos of birds and deer and all kinds of wildlife weave themselves up to Ruby's neck. She finally notices. "What did you do to me?" She feels empty, devoid of emotion and her words mirror how she feels. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" J falls onto his arms as he's backing up, eyes scared. "I didn't do anything, las- great one! You're just showing off your power!"

"What?" Tentacles of ink rise from the ground and grab him, holding him to the substance he was using just earlier to trap her. Ruby very suddenly feels alive again. "W-wait! I didn't mean to do that!" she shouts, putting forth a hand.

The dwarf of a man gives a worried laugh, a horribly-crafted false smile making itself known. "That was a funny joke, miss Ruby." Nothing happens to her this time when he says her name. "You're very adept at-"

"Gods, I leave you alone for two seconds and you've already gone under the catenary. You really don't know anything about thi-"

The two captors/victims turn to see Weiss, mouth open in shock and a stone gateway behind her. "Shit."

They're both equally surprised judging from the shocked expression on their faces. And then a bright silver spike goes through J's chest and Ruby promptly feels very tired and her mind clouds. "Oh." she half-whispers half-shouts. "I- I killed him."

Weiss takes a step back, hands balling into fists. "What are you?"

"I don't know." Ruby really doesn't. She realizes something as she looks at Weiss, white hair whipping in a gust of wind. "You know," she pauses, wondering if it's going to sound weird and then continues, "You don't taste like anything." It sounded weird. Her arms fall to the ground and her eyelids droop. "Anything at all."

'Wh-what does that mean?" Weiss looks scared for the first time Ruby's ever known her (about an hour).

"I have no idea."

And then she finally faints.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, haha, figure out what fae "J" was and I'll give you *drumroll*... nothing at all!
> 
> Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4fvm7FuxjZrAwT_ZukzBXarJMy29FdU4


	5. The One Where We Return To Reality?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you're thinking "Whoa, where did my favorite (big quotation marks there, folks) creator go? Did they decide to work extra hard on a chapter? Were they replanning the story? Are they dead?"
> 
> The answer is that I was lazy and forgot to write. oops. 
> 
> (SHSL, if you're reading this, I'll totally take you up on that beta offer.)

Rain assaults the window like bullet casings from a war high above. The lightbulb in her ceiling choppily cuts in and out of its namesake. Ruby sits huddled in the corner, staring at her wrist. Nothing is going right. Nothing in life is probably going to go right from this point forward.

'You know what's annoying? Rain. It's taunting her, pushing her buttons in all the wrong ways. It's always like that, always constantly trying to knock her down and crush her. It plots against her and she plots against it and she has no idea why.

All in all, Ruby Rose does not like rain and isn't that fond of (hates) the flower adorned on her wrist. It's dark and black and looks like the void and it's making her contemplate her sense of what's real.

The day (currently all two hours of it) was fine, completely fine before she saw her dumb wrist. She had a bad dream about tiny men and scarily angry pale women and then she woke up and it was just there, placed, engraved under her hand. Running it under water and furiously scrubbing at it did nothing, scratching at it did nothing, she even contemplated going to her shop and burning it off with some butane but then she wouldn't have a hand (really not that bad in comparison). 

And then Pyrrha knocked on her and she opened it and she had a halo on her head. Not, like, a cheap plastic one you buy at Party City for a Halloween party, no. It was glowing and ethereal and it was floating and why did this have to happen to her?

So here she is, staring at her wrist in the corner of her room while a possible angel could be standing outside her door right now. It's her personal hell if she's ever seen it. Not fun.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Ruby unsteadily stands up, bracing herself against the wall. There's an off-white, not-quite brown patch on the ceiling above her that she thinks is because of a leak but she still needs to check with her landlord about, but she won't because he tastes like menthol cigarettes. Her mind jumps to conclusions about it being a horrific ceiling goblin that is doing weird sh- crap at night, things that she would rather not discuss with anyone else (the back of her brain tells her that it is totally not but she's not listening).

After much silent deliberation, Ruby opens her bedroom door to brave the adversities of the world. Of course, only to hear someone (there's about zero chance that it's not Nora) in her kitchen again. "Hey, Ruby! Do you mind if I take some more pancake... stuff? What would you call this mixing stuff?"

Hard breaths, deep breaths, Rose. Nothing is wrong with this situation. She's just your neighbor. Just your normal average neighbor who has an unnatural addiction to maple syrup and flapjacks. Your normal neighbor who doesn't pay full price for anything ever. Your normal neighbor who has no eyes. Sorry, no, that was wrong. Your normal neighbor who has no pupils or irises or any defining feature in her eyes. Perfectly normal.

Ruby steps back into her room and slams the door.

"I'm going to take that as a yes, okay?" A clatter of metal (more pans falling) comes from outside her iron wall of a door. "...Sorry."

The victim of circumstance tries to put on a steady voice to respond. "I...I-It's f-fine." She fails. "J-just take the pancake mix, please. I'm... I'm just not up to talk today."

There's no sound outside for several moments. "Ruby, you can tell me what's wrong if you want." Silence again. "Really, I promise you can."

Ruby does not act on that promise. She instead huddles up against her dresser (farther away from the door, thank... at this point maybe not god) with a weak whimper.

"Ruby?" the ginger almost-shouts like a siege engine upon Ruby's fortress of solitude. "I'm coming in, alright?" It's more of a statement than an ask of approval, but it's not too important given the fact everything of Ruby's is crumbling around her.

"N-no! Don't!" Ruby almost-yells back, all whilst realizing that she sounds mortified and not just the normal having a bad day thing. "I-I mean, I'm just dandy-" She cringes, recoiling her skull into the wood. "Fine right now!"

The doorknob of her wall jiggles with effort, entirely opposed to moving. She doesn't remember locking the door, but she's definitely going to give herself a pat on the back later. "Ruby, can you  _please_ open the door," Nora says, popping the p. "I just want to know what's wrong."

Uh. Uhhhh. Think of something to say, Ruby! Think! "I... just, well... I think... I think that I'm going to have to... to replace some things." That didn't sound convincing at all. Great.

"Oh, okay!"

Ruby nearly jumps up in surprise, the only thing stopping her the corner of her dresser. She should saw those off at some point. She'd stop hitting the side of her stomach on them every time she woke up. "Wait, really?" Her eyes dart between Nora's black and white boots just under the door (why does she need those here of all places?) and the copper handle on the door, spots rubbed clean from continual usage. "I-I mean, thanks for understanding!"

Rain continues to commit an act of battery on her window (oh,  _that's_ why she's wearing boots). "Yeah, I deal with it a lot. It's so frickin' hard to find a new vintage skirt when your last one gets red stuff all over, man!"

"Sure." She has never once worried if her outfits were dirty before. Reminder: Get more detergent before Earth or whatever part of it is in her perception goes to chaos. "I know exactly what you're talking about."

Giggles from the other side. "Isn't it so annoying when other people don't know these things? Ren is all like, stop intentionally spilling stuff you can go shopping, and I'm like, you don't understand how fun it is." Ruby can hear the bubbly girl take a deep breath. "Well, I have to get home before dark and brooding wakes up. Bye!"

The pitter-patter of steps and a door hastily being slammed alerts her that the potential danger of a helpful, uncannily-featured friend is gone. She grabs onto the corner of her drawers and pulls herself up, palm kind of stabbed by the polished wood. After taking/mirroring Nora with a series of further deep breaths, Ruby shoves herself into an old grey hoodie from when she was 18 that still fits her. Hoodies are like the chicken and waffles comfort food equivalent of clothing.

Opening the door, little to no light shines through the window, rain acting as a makeshift and involuntary curtain. Her mother used to sit with her on days like this, each of them wrapped in blankets and happiness. She would read those "Little Golden Books" that every kid had at some point. It was nice. A hand wraps around her shoulder.

"Ah-ha!" Nora laughs in her face. "Moping around rain means something's absolut-"

"Nora Valkyrie, stop messing with me!" Maybe it wasn't the best thing to say, the best thing to do in reaction at that moment, but it happened and now her eyes are clamped shut. The grip on her arms doesn't loosen, doesn't get softer. Everything goes still. She takes a cautionary glance.

A bit of background on Nora Valkyrie before we continue: There's a possibility that she has never entirely stopped moving once in her life (according to Ruby). One time she asked Ren about if she was always that hyper, and he gave a shrug and wouldn't continue the conversation. So, at this point, as Ruby opens her eyes to see the blank, expressionless eyes of Nora, ones that stare straight at, through, her, she is both scared and terribly confused.

Ruby pokes at the statue of a girl, head turned away in wary. "Nora?" No response. She swivels back to see that Nora's hair is slowly changing from ginger to dark brown. "N-Nora?"

Nora opens her mouth to speak and it's a cacophony of voices, young, old, female, male, anything. "How d-d-did you k-know that." There is no chance that her words don't double as threats. Her grip gets tighter.

"I-I don't know!"

"Tell me." Her face, her entire body, goes a ghostly white, everything whittled down to the barest components of torsos, and limbs, and the like. "Please." she straps on at the end, gone the benevolent inflection.

"Ireallydon'tknow!" Ruby's mind is in life or death operation status. "I really,  _really_ don't know!"

"Tell." The empty dummy of a body shifts to Ren, dark hair, green clothes, all of it, voice included. "Me." Then the new neighbor Pyrrha. "Now." Then... then Yang. Bad jokes and sisterly love in a mortal form. The woman who is 1000 miles away. And it's not scary because she has the same voice, the same curvy physique, the same everything.

It's (maybe the only word to truly describe it) scary.

It's not scary because she has the same scar on her arm from when they were kids and they jumped out of that giant old tree. It's not scary because she has the same ear to ear smile. It's not scary because that smile is somehow threatening. It's scary because she doesn't taste like Yang. She tastes like Nora, electric highlights of soury-sweet.

"S...S-Schnee!" Her hair is damp with sweat, sticky to her skin. "T-The Schnee Dur-" She struggles for the right word, mouth opening and closing rapidly. "The Schnee Company!"

Nora lets her vice-like grip fall, Ruby stumbling back and gasping for air. She smiles and it's her again, pearly whites on full display. "Ohmygod, thank you!" The color in her eyes returns. "It's soooo hard to do that so many times and I won't even start about going that fast!"

Ruby damn well nearly breaks the windowsill with how hard she's clasping it. "W-What ar-" She takes a moment to look at the ink flower. "What's going on?"

Nora's somehow already halfway out the door. "Can't answer right now, sorry! Have to go talk to the Schnees again!" she shouts towards Ruby, but it's more or less into the wall.

"Again?!"

"Bye!" The door crashes shut behind her.

Ruby screams.

She screams because she was supposed to go and offer to work on that Porsche that was always out on the apartment parking lot. She screams because there is nothing normal anymore. She screams because she will never look at sour candy the same way again.

Ruby screams and the front door's handle rattles. It's also at this point that Ruby can see why people curse so much. "I don't know anything else, I swear! Okay!?"

The doorknob comes flying out of the door and into her wall, shards of plaster exploding out onto her floor. The thoroughly frazzled mechanic only sighs. "Please?" she offers feebly, too tired or too numb to scream and shout. "The literal only thing I could give you right now is soda." Ruby looks at her fridge. "I like my soda," she mumbles.

"Ruby?" Pyrrha walks in holding a fire extinguisher, obviously used. "I sens- I heard screaming. Are you alright?" The halo's still on her head, still showering her with radiant light.

"No, no, everything's... everything's fine." Everything is not fine (how much is she going to have to pay for that wall?). "I just-" She realizes that she has very large red marks on her arms. "I just burnt myself on the stove, that's it."

Pyrrha squints at her with emerald orbs and the halo flares orange. "You have a hand-shaped pan?"

Oh. Ruby scratches the back of her head. "...Yes."

Pyrrha places the fire extinguisher on the floor next to Ruby's couch and walks towards her, a hand outstretched. "Can you stay still for a moment?"

She does not (mostly because she's tired of being pushed around). Ruby slides past Pyrrha with newly found energy, ducking underneath her arm... and then tripping (banging her shin) on the extinguisher. "Fuck! Ow!"

Green light coats the walls. "How did you do that?" The halo embellished woman's hand is resting at her side, balled into a fist. Her flavor bursts with tangs of citrus and cilantro, a flavor maybe not so accustomed to Greek food. Ruby doesn't like cilantro. It tastes like soap.

She gives the most honest answer she can. "I really wish I could tell you." She takes a sharp breath. Who knew slamming your leg into metal hurt so much? "I mean, you have a halo on your head, so..."

Trailing off, Ruby gapes at Pyrrha, eyes wide. Dark grey leathery wings unfurl from her back, a blanket of white feathers the only thing to hide their unsightly appearance. "Please stand still." The coffee table goes wide, an unknown (really?) force hurling it at and through her fridge. "It's quite hard to do this when I have to catch a moving target."

"I liked that fridge!" she cries, and it might be the most emotion she's shown today that isn't spawned of fear. "And the soda! Why'd you have to destroy my soda!?"

A beam of white flashes past her head, red-tipped hairs crisped and sparking with heat. She quickly pats down that side of her head. "I- uh..." There's a spear in Pyrrha's hand, pearly white and embossed with gold. Ruby instinctively backs up, tripping over her own feet. She gives a nervous smile. "Cool spear...?"

"Ruby Rose!" The angel (that's like the only thing she can be, right?) plants the weapon in the ground with a swift thrust and the wood spreads apart in fissures, glowing red embers set ablaze from within. "You have violated many heavenly laws for knowingly cohabitating with changelings, possible unholy acts, and not reporting the discovery of new energies and or powers! You will be cleansed in holy fire!"

Ruby throws the door open and bolts down the stairs to the parking lot.

Pyrrha is shouting behind her, voice thunderous. "Resisting an angel is grounds for further action! Stand down now!"

Fumbling with her keys, Ruby frantically searches for her car in the sea of vehicles. Sea as in, for some cruel twist of fate, almost all of the cars are blue.

A spear embeds itself in a sedan mere inches next to her, the hiss of metal tearing metal jarring, to say the least. "What did I do other than avoid your dumb grabby hand thing!?"

"Unholy business!" Ruby presses the panic (perfectly named in this situation) button on her keys and one of the rows of cars begins to beep. One out of many rows. Damnit. "You conspired with two illegally immigrated changelings and spoke fae spells while not under license!"

Round that corner. Shimmy between that pair of Hondas. Jam that side view mirror you just knocked out back in. There's her car! "Ha!" She sticks her tongue out at Pyrrha, a motion extremely practiced from years of sibling teasing. "There's no way that you're go-"

An incredibly unwanted spear pierces the front half of her truck. She can hear the clang of the asphalt on the other side and it's sickening, disgusting. Oil leaks underneath like blood. Paint scrapes away like torn flesh. It's effectively a corpse of a car. And the thought of her car (her baby!) being totaled is like bringing a match to a fuse. A fuse to a sugar-powered and sugar-motivated bomb. "You-!" She cuts herself off, remembering her morals on cursing for the briefest of moments. "You- and I'm kind of sorry to say this- are an asshole! You destroyed my fridge and now,  _now_ my car! Why!?"

The angel freezes in the sky (apart from those glossy wings that burn holes in her retinas), eyes wide. She lets go of the spear and holds her face in her hands, weapon lazily floating next to her. She mumbles something unintelligible (it could be English or it might not be, it's almost gibberish) and turns away. After a few seconds of her continuing to whisper to herself, she faces Ruby again and speaks. "Fine! There's a possibility that I am being what you call an 'asshole'!"

"You think!" Ruby's arms feel hot, uncomfortably hot. "I spent at least..." She counts the years out on her fingers. "I spent at least a year and a half working on that truck!"

Pyrrha raises an eyebrow. "Why would you ever work on a car that long?"

Heat rises from the tips of her toes to the base of her neck. The air is clear and crisp all around her but it feels stuffy, akin to a sauna. Ruby hates saunas almost as much as she hates not having an umbrella. "I like cars! Have you not seen that I'm a godda- that I'm a mechanic!?"

"No! This was supposed to just be a simple recon assignment!" There's a quality to her voice that's uncertain, regretful even. "There wasn't supposed to be some unknown entity here!"

"What does that even mean!?" Her arms are burning. Like, Jesus fucking Christ, it feels like they're trying to broil themselves. "Also, what the actual hell is going on with my arms!?"

Pyrrha shields herself with her wings. Somehow, she's still in the air. "Stay back, you... you demon!"

Ruby's arms burst into flames.

She screams at a pitch so high, that someone a few states over could probably hear it. It's difficult to describe the pain, difficult because it isn't a normal type of burning. The flesh of her fingers split and pull apart from the bone and it's black like charcoal and burning and it hurts,  _oh god_ it hurts. There's an itch in her bones that she can't scratch (it's not as if she could anyway), and the itch  _burns._ Her lips are dry, cracked from the heat and it's a sick, surreal kind of irony that the feeling spreads.

And then it just stops. There's no brilliant flash of light, no ringing in her ears. Her arms simply cease their inferno and revert back to normal, non-bone-exposing limbs. 

"Excuse me, young Miss Rose, but I believe you should be coming with me now."

Ruby feels strange. Her eyes don't seem to want to focus well or to even work relatively well, but she manages to make out who's talking to her. It's Klein. There's an alabaster limo behind him, engine revving to start and tires rearing to spin. "K-Klein? Where's-" She looks up into the sky. No angel. "Where's angel lady?"

"The Schnee family has graciously used one of their few favors with what you have referred to as 'angel lady's realm to allow you to go free." He opens one of the limo's rear end doors (ha. rear end.) and a gust of cold air shoots out. It feels like dry ice on her skin right now. "For now at least."

"Can I please just go home? Or the hospital? My arms just set on fire."

"That's very nice, Miss Rose." Something about his voice tells her he's annoyed, but she feels too groggy to care. Is it normal to feel groggy after you burn yourself? "May you please enter the limo? We'd very much like to ask why there is a fae woman currently trying to attack our estate."

Huh. You do you, Nora. She almost laughs at the idea of Nora doing something like that, but she doesn't have the will in her to try. "Okay."

Five minutes later, while the air inside the car feels like the Arctic and she's pondering if she has hypothermia, Ruby won't be able to tell if it was a good or bad decision.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapters won't be so montage paced. I just had to establish some stuff in these first chapters.
> 
> Arbitrary Link: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4fvm7FuxjZrAwT_ZukzBXarJMy29FdU4


	6. The One Where Most Things Are Finally Explained / Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're welcome, peasants.
> 
> my birthday was yesterday so I'm obviously now far superior.

The rest of the car ride is spent in relative silence, the drum of Ruby's fingers on the white leather seats the only sound to be heard other than breathing. They're like gunshots in the dead quiet of the near-silent hum of the engine. Klein occasionally will roll down the window (It _could_ be a one-sided mirror. It probably  _is_ a one-sided mirror.) separating the driver's area and the lounge of a passenger's seat and stare at her inquisitively, like he's just discovered a new species and is trying to sketch it out. 

She swears his eyes change color at least once.

Other than wondering what's going on and/or where she's going, there's not actually that much to do in the limo. She's counted at the very least four coolers, and every single one is filled to the brim with red wine. It's not as if she didn't think they wouldn't be. Each wall of the limo is coated in wine glasses and fancy cupholders (what?), each wine glass coated in elaborate murals of winter, and each cupholder coated in gold. 

The wine isn't that great if she's going to be completely honest. Or at least she doesn't like the wine. Every time she takes a sip of it, all she can think about is that damn idiot customer and having normal troubles that a normal person who didn't just spontaneously combust would have. Things like going to the grocery store and paying your taxes to Uncle Sam and not things like trying to rationalize the angel who destroyed your car. 

The window rolls down again, and Klein's eyes are an even green. Weren't they hazel earlier? "We've arrived." 

Ruby looks out the tinted windows. She sees nothing because they are tinted windows. The flower on her wrist has red on it now. It feels weird. "Oh. Am I... am I allowed to get out now?"

"Yes." The window comes up and there's a clatter of noise on the other side she can only assume is Klein getting out of the car. 

The door in her area opens up in turn. The butler stands in the way of the outside world, blocking her view.  "Please follow me, miss."

She gives a nod and he steps out of the way to reveal those oh so un-inviting set of giant doors. If she were superstitious (which would make a lot of things make more sense right now) she'd say they were a bad omen, but they're more of an unfortunate reminder of a tiny brown businessman. Klein begins to walk towards the mansion and Ruby follows suit. "Where are we going?" she asks, knowing full well that there's about a zero out of a hundred chance she'll get an answer she'll understand.

Klein replies with a simple, two-word sentence. "Your room."

Ruby would like to yell something at him, to voice that she has her own house (tiny condominium), but too much effort has been used by noon. She just hangs her head and shuffles along aimlessly in Klein's footsteps into the house. It's cold.

The chandelier hanging next to the screen door, that horrible screen door, looms over them like a not-so-benevolent god, and her guide notices her stare. "Would you like to know about that light there? There's nothing terribly wrong with it, I assure you."

"Sure." Instead of looking at the object of the discussion, Ruby's eyes wander and find interest in a painting in the wall of four people, a family by the looks of it; three women and one man. All of them look like Weiss with their blue eyes and snow-colored hair. She likes the look, but can't tell why. Maybe it's with how happy they look, so juxtaposed to her own family's state after that night. Yang tries to tell her about it a lot, but she's never going to get her to listen. Too painful to remember the news.

Klein prattles on about the chandelier, something about some dwarf and gold ( _did he say elf?_ ), and Ruby is only as interested in it as she is interested in breathing; autonomous and monotonous. He eventually stops and moves to another set of giant doors, these ones only  _partially_ as decorated as the entrance. Ruby's mouth speaks of its own accord, and these are times she wishes she was mute. "Why are there so many doors?"

"Wards," he says, not bothering to face her.

"Cool. Great. Very good answer."

Klein either accepted the answer or didn't hear it, pushing through the intimidating slabs of wood to reveal a spiral staircase. It is white. Who could've guessed? "Your room is on the third floor, opposite to the painting, and engraved with three tally marks. I'm also afraid this is where I leave you. I must go and open the catenary for Miss Weiss's return."

She thinks she understands nearly (new record here!) all of that statement until he mentions the whole catenary thing and her mind immediately goes blank. Klein seems to take her vacant expression as confirmation enough and exits the staircase room with a curt nod. The doors shut behind her with a thud that shakes the floor and possibly the foundation.

There's a moment where she reviews the idea that she could run and never turn back, but then she realizes that the chances of escaping a place that has magic at its core are zero to none. She reluctantly steps onto one of the stairs. 

And is flung into the railing of the spiral. 

The world (four white walls) spins and shifts, lurching sideways and upways and all of the ways before stopping rather abruptly and throwing her off. She tumbles into another set of intricate doors and groans in a way that can only be called painful.

She whispers something to do with "regular elevators" under her breath and uses her now  _lightly_ bruised arms to push herself off the ground. A silver plaque next to the door introduces her to the fact that this is the mystical third floor and she breathes a sigh of relief. It then hits her that she will most likely have to use that staircase to get back down and any sense of solace escapes her.

After struggling to push open the doors (that damned butler has to be magic, right?), Ruby finds herself in a hallway filled with various regalia and trophies. If she had to defend herself from someone, she'd choose this room for the sole fact of how many swords and shields and all sorts of weaponry rest in cases and are affixed to the walls. It does make it somewhat difficult to find the painting that Klein mentioned through the haze of medieval (there's totally way more than just medieval stuff in here) weaponry. When she does find it, she has to give herself a full minute to let what's on it sink in.

It's her face, down to the very last freckle on the side of her nose. 

In earlier times (maybe like a week ago at most), Ruby would've either called Yang to ask for advice or called the police to ask for an arrest. Actually, she probably still would, but exhaustion and general confusion are overwhelming her emotions and reasoning. She turns around and the door is there, the three tally marks looking a lot more like claw marks than indicators.

She sighs and opens the door.

It's just her room, her normal, non-fancy apartment bedroom. 

Ruby walks over to the edge of her bed, sits down, notes that the edges of her dresser are now rounded, and falls asleep.

 

*

 

Someone's calling her. 

It's the vibration, the buzz of the phone on the wood of the dresser that wakes her up. She finds it hard to get up from her slumber and it could be because of how comfortable the bed is now. She never remembers her bed being this comfortable. Maybe they're made of some weird fantasy cotton. 

Ruby rolls over and out of the bed with a huff and looks out the window with the hope that this has all just been an extended fever dream. Judging by the fact that the gardens are outside it's definitely not. Damnit.

The possibly no-longer-a-mechanic picks up the phone off her dresser and looks at who's calling. It's Blake and it's a video call. Unbeknownst to her, her lips curl into a soft smile at the prospect of a familiar face. 

Positioning the phone as best she can to show that she's still alive - because she also has to check at this point-, Ruby starts the call.

"Ruby! Why the ever-living hell didn't you call us?!"

And then Ruby immediately shuts off the call because Blake has cat ears.

Ruby goes back to bed and hopes for the best.

 

*

 

Someone's calling her. Again.

It's Blake. Again.

She eyes it blearily, minds filling with thoughts and thoughts trying to form a coherent line of planning. If she were to answer the call and talk to her on video call, which, given her reaction earlier, almost entirely has to happen, she'd have to try to not stare at the new set of ears. On the other hand, if she didn't answer the call and let it go to voicemail, Blake would definitely know something was amiss and (assuming she hasn't already) tell Yang ad all hell would break loose. Then again, not staring at the cat ears.

Then there's the idea that she has no idea what time it is and if she has any other clothes right now. Her legs intertwined with the blanket(s), Ruby lolls her head back to look at the digital clock on her nightstand. 8:26 AM. How long did she sleep?

There's something else on the bedside table, something either far more interesting or far more gut-wrenching depending on your world view (it's not hard to guess which one Ruby thinks). It's a simple very obviously colored card with light, near baby blue text.

_Please meet in the garden at 9 AM for an explanation._

Ruby flounders her way out of the quicksand-like bed and hits the wood floor, narrowly avoiding the dangerously hard edge of the bedpost. With a quick inner-talk about not fucking up real bad in front of the most powerful people she knows, Ruby throws herself towards her dresser to grab clothes. A mediocre inspection shows her that none of her clothes are actually there. It's all white and blue and, from assorted experiences involving Nora, a discount, and approximately several thousand pairs of clothing, she knows that she could possibly the person who looks the worst in blue.

It doesn't stop her from not throwing out all of the clothes to find something that isn't either on the lighter side of the neutral scale or themed towards the ocean. After only about two minutes of throwing clothing over her shoulder does Ruby find a grey dress shirt that isn't primarily blue. Sure it has blue on the hem, but it's not like anyone will notice (at that thought, it's obvious someone will notice).

She looks back at the clock. 8:41 AM. How did she waste that much time already?

Ruby cautiously opens the door and is rewarded with that painting of her on the opposite wall. It's sufficient enough to say that she doesn't like it. What looks like a double-sided spear rests above it and it wouldn't be too hard to rip the damned thing to shreds with it. Not that she knows how to use it, but whatever.

As she walks down the hallway towards the staircase and its infinitely impossible way of going up  _two floors_ , her wrist pulses with energy, if only briefly. She should ask about that whole flower thing. 

After opening the doors with a grunt (seriously, what the hell is that butler?), Ruby warily steps onto the stairs and uses her hands like vices to clamp onto the staircase. There's no way it's going to fling her this time.

And she would be right. Because it pushes her onto the ground and hurtles downward.

Imagine, for a moment, being at the very top of a rollercoaster's peak and the impending dread/excitement you feel. Now, remove the excitement, make the peak of the rollercoaster showcasing a bottomless pit, and then you have what Ruby's feeling currently. For all of six seconds.

With a jerk that causes Ruby to roll down a couple of steps, the staircase stops, shaking slightly. It swerves forward one more time, almost taunting and sending her rolling off the stairs. Why is everything in this house an asshole to her?

After she once more pushes open the doors, Ruby walks over to the screen door, places a shaky hand on the handle, and pulls it open. She braces herself for the worst.

"Welcome, Ruby! How's life?"

She knows the voice. Too sugary, no depth. "It's Whitley, right?" she asks, annoyance sloppily masked.

Whitley nods in approval.

"Cool." Ruby looks around the garden, spotting a black and white cat standing on its hind legs. There's a paper napkin on its head. "Can I ask you something else?"

He smirks, smug and all around unappealing. "Go ahead. It's not as if I won't know the answer. With my superi-"

With the sudden realization that she didn't answer the phone, Ruby responds.

"Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've decided to go for about 3000 words a chapter. this one wasn't that amount. great.
> 
> Playlist again: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4fvm7FuxjZrAwT_ZukzBXarJMy29FdU4

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like four in the morning. Also, I’ve been to neither of the states listed, so if it feels forced that’s why.


End file.
